


like constellations

by academic_orpheus



Category: Natasha Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812 - Malloy
Genre: Angst, Car Accidents, Character Death, F/M, Hospitals, I apologize in advance, Nobody is having a good time, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:01:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28062843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/academic_orpheus/pseuds/academic_orpheus
Summary: Everything changes so quickly. Natasha could never have predicted it would change like this, though.
Relationships: Andrei Nikolayevich Bolkonsky & Marya "Mary" Nikolaevna Bolkonskaya, Andrei Nikolayevich Bolkonsky/Natalya "Natasha" Ilyinichna Rostova, Marya "Mary" Bolkonskaya & Natalya "Natasha" Rostova & Sofia "Sonya" Rostova, Natalya "Natasha" Ilyinichna Rostova & Sofia "Sonya" Alexandrovna Rostova, Pyotr "Pierre" Kirillovich Bezukhov & Natalya "Natasha" Ilyinichna Rostova
Kudos: 6





	like constellations

**Author's Note:**

> thank you @iamtraassshh for beta reading! i appreciate you :D !

When Natasha picked up her angrily buzzing phone, she wasn’t expecting to hear Andrei’s sister instead of him.

“Is this Natasha?”

“Mary?”

“I don’t know who else to call,” Mary said into the phone, her voice broken and weak.

“What? Where are you? Are you okay?” Natasha asked, throwing herself out of her bed and trying to find her shoes.

“I don’t know, just whatever hospital is closest to downtown,” Mary sighed heavily, trying to calm herself.

“I’ll be there. Uh, hang up after this and find a contact that says Pierre and call that number. Got it?” Natasha bounded downstairs, her heart hammering in her chest.

“Yeah, got it, thank you so much, Natasha.”

“No problem. Hang in there,” Natasha sighed, waiting to hear Mary hang up.

She hesitated for a moment, one hand on the door to the garage. She didn’t know how to drive. “Hey, Sonya!” 

“What?”

“I need you to drive me somewhere, like, right now, it’s an emergency!”

At that, Sonya came hurrying down the stairs, her face an unnaturally pale shade.

“I’m not in any danger but Andrei’s sister called me and I just need to get to the hospital, that’s where she said they were, I don’t know anything else,” Natasha rambled on, trying to hold back her tears.

“Shh. Come on.” Sonya grabbed her car keys and they were out of the neighborhood before Natasha could even process what was happening. 

Sonya dropped Natasha off by the entrance, after spending a good amount of time trying to find somewhere to park. Natasha hurried into the daunting, pristine building and focused on saying Andrei’s name without crying.

“I’m here to visit someone,” Natasha said at the reception desk, biting the inside of her cheek.

“Speak up, honey,” the receptionist said, not looking up.

“I need a guest badge.”

“What room number are you trying to go to?”

“Uh, I don’t know. Do you know what room Andrei Bolkonsky is in?”

“Hmm, Andrei… 402. ID, please.”

Natasha handed over her state ID and was given it back momentarily, along with a visitor sticker.

402, she repeated in her head. The fact that she was let in at all must be a good sign. The elevator was painfully slow. On the way out, Natasha almost ran directly into a nurse. 

“Sorry,” they both murmured in unison.

Natasha stood in front of the door, her heart hammering in her chest. Whatever had happened, she just hoped that Andrei would be awake and she could hold his hand and kiss his forehead and tell him that he was okay. She gave a meek knock, but it must’ve been enough, because Mary pushed open the door and greeted Natasha. 

“Oh, Mary, are you okay?” Natasha’s heart sank. 

Aside from Mary’s blotchy face and swollen eyes, the poor girl had plenty of hastily bandaged cuts and scrapes littering her arms and face. 

Mary nodded yes impulsively, but she was obviously in a lot of pain. If Natasha wasn’t afraid of hurting her, she would’ve wrapped her arms around her tightly and stayed there until she could feel Mary’s heart beating against her own. 

Mary pushed the door open a bit further and Natasha saw Andrei. He was unconscious, looking more like a mess of bandages and tubes than a human. 

“Oh, my god, Andryusha,” Natasha clapped a hand over her mouth.

“They don’t know if…” Mary sniffled. “He was driving, we got rear-ended. There was a… there was metal, from the wreck, in his stomach, I think,” Mary’s voice kept breaking but she kept talking.

Natasha pieced together the other reason Mary was so distraught right as Mary began to explain it.

“My father was in the back seat. He… um…” Mary couldn’t find the words she needed.

“Oh, Mary, I’m so sorry.”

“I don’t know what I’m going to do—what we’re going to do—without him.”

“Can I hug you?” Natasha offered, arms open.

“Please,” Mary seemed to deflate in Natasha’s tender arms. Natasha was extremely careful, abstaining from the tight, bone-crushing embraces she usually gave. Mary cried onto Natasha’s shoulder, her entire body shaking heavily. 

“Breathe,” Natasha smoothed Mary’s hair, which she had never seen free from that tight braided bun she wore upon her head.

A loud knock on the door startled both of the girls, Natasha pulling away after volunteering to open the door.

“Pierre,” Natasha’s face lightened at the sight of her friend, losing all the light not a second later when she saw the crease in his forehead and the redness of his face.

“What happened? Andrei, what happened to you?” Pierre pushed past Natasha and directly towards Andrei.

“Pierre, be gentle, he’s unconscious.”

“What in the world happened?”

“A wreck,” Mary winced at the memory, and recoiled away from Pierre. His demeanor and unknowing strength unnerved her.

Pierre’s face twitched. He sniffled, tried to remain strong for his friend, and for everyone else in the room, and looked up at the ceiling.

“You can cry,” Natasha said quietly, touching Pierre’s arm. “It’s okay.”

Pierre shook his head, brushing Natasha’s hand away.

Mary resigned herself to silence, sitting hunched over in the chair in the corner, staring blankly at the wall. Natasha was terrified. She felt her phone vibrate in her back pocket. A text from Sonya.

“I’ll be right back,” Natasha whispered to Pierre as she stepped out of the room.

Sonya was in the lobby, waiting patiently for Natasha. She stood and wrapped Natasha into a warm, tight hug. Natasha seemed to melt into Sonya’s arms.

“How is everyone?”

“Honestly? Not good,” Natasha sighed.

“I saw Pierre come in.”

“He’s not doing good, either. You can’t blame him, really.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

Sonya squeezed Natasha’s hand, gesturing for her to sit down.

“It was so scary, everything just happened all at once. Like, just thinking about how this time yesterday Andrei was fine, if they’d have been one lane over he would’ve been fine. It’s so unfair,” Natasha said, restraining tears.

Sonya just nodded, still keeping her fingers intertwined with Natasha’s.

“And when I came in, Mary looked so different, like I knew it was her and stuff, but she had her hair down, and… and her eyes were all red… and she just looked scared. I mean, she always kinda looks scared, but, like, she looked really petrified when she saw me. It just freaked me out.”

Natasha hid her face in her hands, crying while Sonya gently rubbed her back and shushed her like a child. She couldn’t even bring herself to be embarrassed.

After a while, Natasha mustered up the strength to go back up to the fourth floor. The elevator ride seemed a little less difficult the second time around, now that Natasha at least knew what to expect.

She knocked gently and waited for a few seconds longer than what she thought was normal. Mary opened the door, just like she did the first time. Although this time, she seemed a bit cheerier.

“You got back just in time,” Mary said. “Andrei’s awake.”

Natasha gasped softly, clasping her hands together.

Pierre knelt next to Andrei’s bed, talking softly to him. Andrei didn’t reply, but he nodded ever so slightly. “He’s really weak,” Mary explained.

“I’m just glad he’s awake,” Natasha said.

“Me too.”

Once Pierre decided it was time to let Natasha and Mary visit with Andrei, he struggled to his feet, both knees popping loudly, and stepped to the side. 

“Drusha, can you hear me?” Mary asked, attempting to hold his hand but giving up as soon as she brushed one of the IV needles.

Andrei nodded.

“Can you speak?” 

Andrei’s lips parted and he murmured a crackly, dry, “uh-huh”.

A collective sigh of relief filled the room.

“Okay, um, uh, goodness…” Mary struggled with her words, trying to think of something to ask Andrei.

“Andrei, do you recognize me?” Natasha said, gently touching Andrei’s face.

Slowly, Andrei turned his head to look at her. 

“Tasha,” he said, his voice breaking slightly.

Natasha’s eyes welled with tears, tears of joy from hearing her beloved Andrei say her name. 

The moments of celebration, the few minutes where every person in the room was smiling despite the circumstances, were interrupted by a doctor. She looked bewildered at the mix of people around Andrei’s bed. Clearly, she only expected Mary to be there.

“Hi Andrei, I’m Anna, I’m just going to take your vitals again and talk to your sister for a bit, if that’s okay.”

“Yeah,” Andrei said, nodding his head.

“Don’t exert yourself,” Anna said calmly as she wrapped a blood pressure cuff around Andrei’s arm.

“Should we go?” Natasha asked, nudging Mary gently.

“If you want to, I guess. I don’t think we’re in the way or anything.” Mary replied. Her voice was still laden with sadness, but she had a kind smile on her face. The certain hopefulness in her eyes gave Natasha hope, too.

“I’ll stay, then. Pierre?”

“Oh. Yeah, I’m staying, too.”

“Marya?” Anna stepped towards the door, propping it open with the back of her foot.

Mary hurried towards the door and the doctor, leaving Pierre and Natasha standing in the corner of the room.

“Hey. C’mere,” Andrei said. “Both of you.”

Natasha knelt on one side of the bed; Pierre sat in the chair on the other side. It would have been quite peaceful, if it weren’t for the incessant beeping of a couple machines. Andrei’s breathing was steady and he kept that dimpled smile on his face as Natasha held his hand. All three of them looked up as Mary entered the room. Natasha stood up, giving Andrei’s hand a light squeeze, and approached Mary.

“It’s not great,” Mary said defeatedly. “A piece of metal got caught in his stomach, which they got out, but they think it might have punctured his liver or something.”

Natasha clenched her jaw, trying not to imagine all the horrible things that could happen.

“They have to do more tests on his organs, at… I think… tomorrow morning. Like, 4 A.M. tomorrow morning. That’s what she told me,” Mary said.

“Anything else?” Natasha asked, not really wanting to hear Mary talk more about all the bad things happening to Andrei, but feeling like she needed to know.

“Uh, yeah, a few more. Sorry,” Mary looked like she was about to cry. 

“You don’t have to,” Natasha stammered.

“You deserve to know, though. You don’t deserve to have things kept from you.” Mary sniffled.

By the time Mary could compose herself enough, the sun was setting. Pierre stood by Natasha’s side. “So,” Mary began. “That thing, right, and apparently he has multiple slipped discs in his back.”

“Multiple?” Pierre asked.

“Uh-huh. I don’t really know what that means, though.”

“It’s a pretty common back injury thing. He’ll probably have to do some physical therapy but I don’t think it’ll really hinder him long-term, you know?” 

Natasha and Mary looked at Pierre.

“The med science grad strikes again,” he lightly chuckled.

The corner of Natasha’s mouth turned up in a friendly smile at Pierre.

The sun had fully set; Natasha caught a glimpse of the brilliant full moon out of the window and in her excitement beckoned Mary and Pierre towards her. 

“I can’t see the moon,” Andrei said, sounding as though he’d been left out of some inside joke that everybody else knew.

“Well,” Natasha started, leaving the window and sitting next to Andrei’s bed, “It’s a full moon. No clouds tonight, so it’s really visible. It’s pretty,” she said, sighing as she turned towards Andrei, kissing his cheek.

“I love how you see the world,” Andrei murmured in response.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, ok?” She gave Andrei one last kiss before standing up to say goodbye to Mary.

“Are you going to stay here all night?” Natasha whispered as she hugged Mary.

“Of course.”

“Please get some rest,” Natasha said, holding onto Mary’s hands.

Mary nodded as Natasha stepped back to say goodbye to Pierre. “I’ll see you tomorrow, I guess—” 

“Oh! Uh, we don’t have to say our goodbyes right now, I’ll leave with you. If, um, if that’s alright,” Pierre stammered, and Andrei couldn’t help but smile at his best friend’s charming awkwardness.

“Sure!” Natasha said, yawning right after.

Natasha and Pierre were quiet as they walked to the elevator. “So you’re sure he’s going to be fine? It seemed kinda bad, the way Mary was so worked up over it,” Natasha said once they got on the elevator.

“Mary’s always worked up about something,” Pierre shrugged. “I’m not a doctor—yet—but I don’t think he’ll be too affected by any of this.”

Natasha wanted to trust Pierre, just because he sounded so hopeful, if nothing else.

Sonya still remained in the main lobby, holding an empty coffee cup and looking like she was about to fall asleep. She looked up when she heard Natasha’s voice, and put no effort into masking her surprise when she saw Pierre right beside her.

“Sofia,” Pierre greeted her, smiling.

“Sonya,” she corrected. It had been at least a year since she’d spoken to Pierre.

“Right. Sorry. How are you?”

“Fine, for the most part. You?”

“Not terrible, all things considered.”

“Ready to go, Sonya?” Natasha butted into the awkward conversation.

“Yeah. I’m tired. Nice seeing you, Pierre,” Sonya waved, turning and making her way towards the doors that led to the parking lot.

“Goodnight! Get some rest!” Natasha called as she followed her cousin out of the hospital.

Natasha could barely sleep that night. At midnight she decided she would set an alarm for 4, and wake up then, so any news from Mary wouldn’t be missed.

At 4:50, after not hearing anything from anybody, Natasha snuck down to the kitchen to make herself a cup of tea. As she watched the water boil in the kettle, the only thing she could think about was her boyfriend. He just looked so weak and helpless. Natasha had never seen anyone like that before. She thought momentarily if she had ever cried more than she had in the last twenty-four hours. 

Trying not to spill the scalding hot tea, Natasha crept up the stairs one at a time. Once she made it to her room, she set the mug on her nightstand and sat down. It took her a few seconds to notice the string of notifications on her phone. Her lock screen was a picture of Andrei at an observatory, pointing out Venus’ red glow among the stars.

Mary had texted her from Andrei’s phone. Natasha’s mind was too fuzzy to read the long messages but could make out the words “bleeding” and “critical”. Quickly, she typed back, “Can I call you?” and barely waited for a response.

“What’s going on?” Natasha asked, already panicking.

She could hear Mary crying on the other end of the call.

“Mary? What happened? Should I come?”

“He’s worse,” Mary choked out. “Internal bleeding.”

“I’m on my way,” Natasha stammered.

She didn’t hang up, just in case Mary had more to say. 

“Call…” Mary said between ragged breaths. “Pierre.”

“Call Pierre?” Natasha echoed.

“Yes,” Mary sighed, sniffling.

“Okay, I’m gonna hang up. I’ll be there soon.”

Through blurred eyes, Natasha found Pierre’s number. She would give anything to erase the memory of Pierre’s voice on that call.

Sonya wasn’t quite on board with being Natasha’s personal chauffeur, especially at five in the morning, but the grief and fear in Natasha’s voice filled her with inexpressible sadness. The least Sonya could do was drive her poor cousin from point A to point B.

The car ride was dead silent. Natasha fidgeted with the drawstrings of her sweatshirt and surprisingly didn’t cry at all.

As she walked into the lobby, Natasha came face-to-face with Pierre. Wordlessly, he took her hand and led her to the elevator.

Mary sat outside the room, burying her head in her arms. Natasha gently knelt down, touching Mary’s back. Mary gasped but calmed down upon seeing Natasha’s face.

“Is he okay?” Natasha asked, her hands trembling.

“They’re trying to get the internal bleeding under control.”

“Oh, God. Where is he?” Natasha crossed her arms over herself, brushing a loose curl out of her face.

“He’s in the ICU. They won’t let you two in, but I don’t even want to go in.”

Natasha offered Mary a hand. She refused it, not even moving to consider getting up. With a sigh, Natasha placed a hand on the ground and sat next to Mary. She recoiled. Natasha glanced down at the floor, pretending to be wholly interested in the linoleum tile pattern. 

Pierre cleared his throat, and Natasha thought he was going to speak, but he never did. He just took off his thick-rimmed glasses and crossed his arms.

It was so awfully silent. The ringing in Mary’s ears did nothing to put her at ease. It hadn’t stopped since the previous day. 

Natasha shifted, standing up slowly with a yawn. “Pierre,” she said, not quite whispering but nowhere near a regular volume. “C’mere.”

Pierre followed her, blinking to adjust to the light of the main hallway she’d led them both into.

“Natasha, I don’t have the energy for—”

“What?”

“I don’t know what you’re going to tell me, or ask me,” Pierre sighed, rubbing his eyes. “But it’s too early. I can’t handle it.”

Natasha nodded. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize. I think we should go check on Mary.”

Mary hadn’t moved since Natasha and Pierre left. It looked as though she’d seen a ghost, her eyes wide and unfocused, her skin paler than usual. Her chest rose and fell, jagged and irregular. Pierre opened his mouth to speak, but Natasha stepped in front of him before he could do so. “Can you get her some water? Just go,” Natasha whispered urgently.

“Hey, you’re okay, it’s me,” Natasha knelt down a foot or so away from Mary. “Deep breaths, ready, I’ll count with you.”

Natasha inhaled, slowly, calmly, watching Mary out of the corner of her eye as she began to calm down a bit. As she exhaled, she could hear Pierre coming down the hall. All Mary could really hear was her own heart pounding and the persistent ringing in her ears.

The small plastic water bottle was passed around, until Natasha had handed it to Mary. “Oh, let me open it for you,” Natasha said, gently taking the water bottle back and twisting off the cap. “Careful, take small sips.”

Natasha turned around, but only after Mary had taken a full sip of water. “Thank you.”

Pierre grimaced as he nodded.

“I feel dizzy,” Mary said, her voice hoarse and shaky.

“Probably from breathing too hard,” Natasha answered. “You don’t have to stand up just yet. Take all the time you need. We’re not going anywhere.”

Mary let her head rest on her shoulder. She felt so weak, slumped against the wall against the floor. She was still wearing what she had on yesterday. Another slow, steady breath filled her lungs. “I just… I just want to go home.”

“Okay,” Natasha said. “Do you feel well enough to stand?”

“Yeah, I… I don’t want to go to my house, not without…” Mary trailed off as she stood, listening as her joints popped. She’d been on that floor for so long she’d nearly forgotten what standing felt like.

Natasha sighed. “You can stay at my house… at least until things get sorted out.”

“Really? I couldn’t, I…” Mary became flustered.

“You haven’t slept. At least consider it.”

Mary rubbed her eyes, nodding as she yawned.

“Pierre, you can come over if you want,” Natasha offered quietly.

“Oh, no thanks. I don’t think Sonya likes me very much. I’d just be a bother,” Pierre said.

Natasha would have contested, but it wasn’t even six in the morning. She didn’t have the energy.

Even after showering, Mary couldn’t help but feel out of place and unwelcome in Natasha’s home. Just the car ride home had completely drained her. Even though Sonya drove the back way, avoiding the highway, she was still in a car. It was still terrifying. And she missed Andrei.

She sat on Natasha’s bed, her back perfectly straight and her hands folded neatly in her lap, even through her lethargic trance. Natasha let Mary borrow some clothes, Sonya cooked a very enticing brunch, and they all ate in silence.

At night, Natasha offered her bed to Mary, but she refused. Natasha expected she would, but she ached for someone—anyone—to be near her. 

Natasha made breakfast for everyone the next morning: pancakes. They weren’t anything special, just a boxed pancake mix, and they were always either a little burnt on the edges or too undercooked in the center, but it was good enough to sustain and satisfy everyone.

Sonya ate quickly, emptying her clean plate into the sink, and retreated back upstairs after thanking her cousin for the meal. Mary lethargically stabbed her fork into a pancake, her other hand serving as a place for her chin to rest.

“Did you sleep well last night?” Natasha said, nudging Mary slightly.

Mary snapped out of her daze, her fork falling from her grasp and clattering to the floor. “Sorry,” she murmured, wincing at the noise before picking up the fork and setting it back on the table. 

“Here’s another.” Natasha handed Mary a clean fork from off the counter. “Anyways, how’d you sleep?”

“I don’t understand how you could sleep at all,” Mary snapped. “Don’t you even think? Andrei’s dying. I don’t want to listen to small talk.”

Mary stood, leaving her plate full of pancakes. Before Natasha could say a word, Mary was already upstairs.

Unbeknownst to Mary, her church had organized a funeral for her father. She found out through an email she got, still on Andrei’s phone. She did not want to go, but the guilt gathering in her chest made her reply to the email. 

As she tip-toed down the stairs, her arms crossed and Andrei’s phone in her hand, she bumped into Natasha.

“Oh! Sorry, I didn’t see you! I’m so sorry,” Mary squeaked, trying to back up but just banging her heel on the back of the stair.

“It’s fine!” Natasha reached out to touch Mary’s arm.

Although Mary didn’t try to avoid Natasha’s hand, she didn’t look comfortable.

“There’s… uh… I need to ask you something,” Mary stammered.

“Oh? We can go sit on the sofa,” Natasha smiled, her brown eyes full of warmth.

Mary nodded, following Natasha down the stairs.

As they got situated on the couch, Mary tried to think of how she was going to ask Natasha about coming to the funeral with her.

“My father’s funeral is supposed to be tomorrow at my church. Uh, I know it’s the last thing you’d want to do but I really, really don’t want to go there alone.”

Mary’s voice wavered as she spoke.

“Of course I’ll come with you. Do you want to borrow something to wear?”

“As long as you don’t mind,” Mary said.

“I don’t mind at all! I just hope that my stuff isn’t too long,” Natasha said, gesturing towards Mary’s legs.

Mary’s lips formed an odd, pained smile. There hung in the air an awkward silence before Natasha turned and led Mary upstairs.

The morning of the funeral, Mary woke up before the sun even had the chance to rise. Natasha could hear Mary’s footsteps from her room. She took note of how light and measured Mary’s steps were. It was as if they’d been calculated in her head beforehand. Even so, she still found herself stumbling more than the average person. It just seemed like a lose-lose scenario.

Natasha descended the stairs a few minutes after Mary did, only to find Mary in the kitchen struggling with the electric kettle on the counter.

“Here, let me help,” Natasha said, her finger brushing Mary’s hand as she was about to push a button.

Mary flinched, startled by Natasha’s unexpected presence.

“Sorry,” Natasha mumbled under her breath as she hit a button and watched the water start to bubble.

“I usually have a cup of tea in the morning,” Mary said, fiddling with her necklace.

“I’m more of a cocoa person, unless I need the caffeine,” Natasha replied, rubbing her eye to try and wake herself up.

Mary nodded, her jaw tightening. The bags under her eyes struck Natasha as she caught a full glimpse of Mary.

“Did you sleep okay?” Natasha asked, trying her very hardest to not sound intrusive.

Mary shook her head. She squinted at the floor and for a moment it looked like she was going to pass out right there in the kitchen. Slowly, she stretched her arms above her head, yawning as she did so.

Natasha stood a few feet from Mary, tense and quite exhausted. The air between them was constrained and laced with unbearable sadness. Lest either of them fall deeper into their own grief, the electric kettle beeped. Mary startled at the sound. 

“Here,” Natasha reached over Mary’s head to grab a mug from the cabinet.

“Thank you,” Mary said, her voice scratchy and weak.

Natasha poured the hot water into Mary’s cup before filling her own.

“Is green tea okay?” Natasha asked.

“Uh, do you have mint?”

“Yes,” Natasha responded, holding up a box of peppermint tea bags.

“Thank you.”

Natasha nodded, grimacing slightly. 

As the girls stood against the counter waiting for the tea to steep, Natasha found herself distracted. Mary kept squinting at the ground but every so often her eyes would wander upon Natasha’s face. 

Natasha ran her hand through her hair, separating the curls to give them more volume.

“Should I straighten it for later?” Natasha asked, twirling the end of her hair around her finger.

“No,” Mary answered quite plainly. “I love your hair.”

Natasha blushed, smiling as genuinely as one could smile at 6 in the morning.

“I think the tea is done steeping,” Mary said abruptly.

Natasha hummed in agreement. “Are you hungry?”

“Not really,” Mary sighed, resting her chin in her hand as if throwing away the teabag had drained her of all her energy.

“You barely ate anything yesterday. Do you like eggs?”

“I guess.”

“Good, that’s all I really know how to cook. Besides pancakes.”

Mary, in a stunned sort of silence, made her way to the kitchen table, hunched over her mug as Natasha cracked eggs into a pan.

She barely noticed when Sonya came downstairs.

“It smells like something’s burning,” Sonya said, still groggy.

“I’m just making fried eggs!” Natasha turned around, waving around the spatula to prove it.

“Well, I think they’re sufficiently fried. Take the pan off the heat,” Sonya walked into the kitchen, trying to glide with her socks on the tile. “Morning, Mary. Did you sleep well?”

Mary nodded, in a strange lethargic daze.

“Nat, I said take the pan off the stove,” Sonya grumbled, taking the pan from Natasha and moving it to an idle burner. “Can you get plates down, please? I need to make some coffee.”

Natasha brought down two plates, one for Mary and one for herself. 

Mary mumbled a quick prayer before taking a bite of the eggs on her plate.

Brushing a tendril of hair out of the way, Natasha zipped up the back of Mary’s dress. 

“There,” she said softly, considering touching Mary’s shoulders but ultimately just dropping her hands by her sides.

“Thank you.”

“Are we ready?”

“I guess,” Mary sighed, wrapping her arms around herself. “Natasha?”

“Yes?”

“After the, uh…the funeral…can we stop by the hospital? I’m still worried about him,” Mary said, feeling her face heat up. Tears were imminent.

“Of course we can,” Natasha said, hesitating as she tried to decide whether or not Mary would appreciate a gentle hug.

Mary stood there helplessly as tears began to trickle down her face. Natasha made up her mind and within seconds she had her arms around her, letting Mary cry upon her shoulder.

“We’re going to be late,” Mary said, swiping at her eyes as she pulled away from the embrace. Her lip trembled as she spoke and her reddened eyes began to water again.

“Shh, breathe. Breathe, Mary, you’re okay,” Natasha went right back to holding Mary in her arms, comforting her like it was what she was made to do.

“We’re already late!” Mary cried, her voice shrill and shallow.

“Okay, let’s leave. Do you want me to sit in the backseat with you?”

“You don’t have to,” Mary said, trying her best to breathe evenly.

Natasha dug around in her little purse until she found a pack of tissues. She handed the entire pack to Mary as the two headed downstairs to the garage. Sonya had already started the car. As Mary opened the door, Natasha decided she would sit in the back, too.

“You don’t have to, really…” Mary said as Natasha opened the door on the other side.

“No, no, I want to.”

Mary didn’t say another word until Sonya pulled into the parking lot of the church.

“I’m going to drive around. Nat, text me when you’re outside, okay?” Sonya said as the girls got out of the car.

“Got it.”

“Thank you for driving us, Sonya.” Mary said, forcing a smile.

“My pleasure,” Sonya responded, waving goodbye as she rolled up the window and left the parking lot.

Natasha stood off to the side as Mary spoke with some old acquaintances from her church. She recognized a few people there. Julie, who Natasha had an art class at school with, was holding Mary’s hands and talking in a hushed voice. 

Another woman, who Natasha didn’t recognize, came up to Mary after Julie had taken a seat in the pew behind Natasha, and kissed Mary upon the cheek. 

After what seemed like ages, Mary and all the other guests were seated and the ceremony began.

The woman who Natasha didn’t know—Amelie, as it turned out—gave an incredibly long eulogy. 

Amelie sat back down and the pastor with his deep voice said, “The daughter of Mr. Bolkonsky.”

Mary froze. With shaking hands, she stood up and walked towards the casket and the podium, both decorated with rose wreaths. She’d never felt more unprepared.

“My father was… um… he was very thoughtful. He…” Mary couldn’t finish her sentence before she found herself holding back a gut-wrenching sob. She winced, clamping her hand over her mouth as the sounds of sniffling echoed through the silent church.

Embarrassed, but too drained to show it, Mary staggered back to her seat, practically collapsing into Natasha’s lap.

“Do you need some water?” Natasha whispered as organ music began to play. 

Mary shook her head no.

The funeral procession was fairly short, seeing as Mary had opted to have her father interred in the church’s very own little cemetery. Mary reached for Natasha’s hand, squeezing it relentlessly up until the moment the attendants started to disperse. Natasha shot Sonya a quick text before putting her phone back in her purse. Mary slowly smoothed out a wrinkle in the fabric of Natasha’s dress.

“Oh,” Natasha said softly. “Thanks.”

Mary nodded, closing her eyes for a few seconds. She swayed in the wind like a reed.

“Okay, come on, Sonya’s almost here,” Natasha linked elbows with Mary and led her to the curb in front of the church.

The two cousins handled Mary like they would handle a fragile doll. They refrained from touching her or speaking to her in a way that could overwhelm her. Natasha felt terrible, but Sonya wouldn’t let her near Mary for fear that she would be upset.

Natasha and Mary grew distant, Mary only spoke at dinner when she said grace. They had all fallen into a routine. Mary would stay at the hospital every day with Andrei in the mornings, come back to the house for lunch, and sometimes return to the hospital after that. 

Just from the past week, Sonya was positive she could get to the hospital half-asleep. Mary was, rightfully, very anxious in cars. She insisted on only driving during hours where traffic would be light. Natasha looked into the rear-view mirror on multiple occasions to see Mary, sitting in the backseat with her hands clasped together and her head down in prayer. 

The fourth day of visiting the ICU, or rather, Mary visiting the ICU while Natasha and Sonya waited, was absolutely dreary. Natasha watched the rain hit the pavement outside through the window and remembered when she looked at the full moon and described it to Andrei. It seemed like ages ago when that had happened, but it was no more than a week. Natasha, lost in the individual raindrops rolling down the window, barely noticed Sonya tapping her shoulder.

“Mary’s coming our way. She’s smiling? Maybe?” Sonya whispered.

Natasha stood, about to open her mouth when Mary spoke for her.

“He’s out of the ICU,” Mary said. “He’s moved back to the room he was in. He’s on a bunch of medication, but he wants to talk and eat.”

“That’s great!” Natasha’s heart fluttered. She sighed in relief.

“You can come say hi now, he’s been asking where you’ve been.”

Natasha pushed open the door to Andrei’s room and was met with his radiant grin.

“I missed you,” Natasha said, her voice breaking as she wandered past everything and straight towards Andrei.

“Me too.” Andrei sounded weaker than he first did. Still, he moved his hand towards Natasha’s. She took it, giving it a gentle kiss, and smiled as she gazed upon Andrei’s face. A somewhat large gash on his cheek had scarred over, but Natasha found it just as handsome as the rest of Andrei’s features.

Natasha began kissing Andrei’s face, avoiding the tender scar. With each kiss she remembered just how much she missed Andrei, even if it was only a little over a week. He’d been traveling for six months before and Natasha didn’t miss him nearly as fiercely as she did after his wreck. At least Natasha knew he was okay when he was abroad. She didn’t go to bed every night harboring uncertainties.

“When can… when… can I go…” Andrei spoke, stammering and struggling but determined to finish his sentence.

“You want to go home?” Natasha asked.

Andrei nodded, glancing at Mary.

“I told you already in the ICU, I’ve been staying with Natasha. But we can go back to our house. All of dad’s stuff is still there, though.”

Andrei’s nose wrinkled. “I wanna stay with Tasha,” he said definitively.

“Okay,” Mary said, briefly making eye contact with Natasha, as if she needed to ask if Natasha would let him stay at her house.

Andrei stayed in the hospital for another three days before being discharged. At first, everybody was nothing but relieved. Then, some doctors came in to explain the PICC line Andrei had to have, all of the medicine he would have to take, and when he would have to come back to see if he needed blood transfusions.

Mary and Andrei sat in the back of Sonya’s car, Andrei laid out so that his head was in his sister’s lap and his knees were tucked up and resting against the back of the seat. Sonya drove exceptionally slow—resulting in horns being honked at her several times. She just kept her eyes on the road and tried not to say anything profane.

It took all three of the girls to carry Andrei in from the garage and onto the fold-out couch. It was not the most comfortable bed in the house, but every other bed was up a flight of stairs.

“Are you comfy? Need anything?” Natasha asked, adjusting the blanket that belonged to her, but was now draped over Andrei.

“I’m good… maybe a kiss?” Andrei cracked a smile.

“I don’t know, that’s asking quite a lot. But I guess I can get that for you,” Natasha giggled, leaning down to kiss Andrei.

“Get a room, you two!” Sonya teased.

“We can’t,” Andrei said with a smug smile. “They’re all upstairs.”

After dinner, everybody unanimously decided (or rather, Andrei proposed an idea and everybody went with it) to watch a movie.

“Nothing sad, please,” Mary chimed into the discussion about what to watch.

“Beauty and the Beast, maybe?” Sonya suggested.

Everybody agreed upon Beauty and the Beast. Sonya and Mary occupied the armchairs across from each other while Natasha cuddled right up to Andrei.

“You smell like a hospital,” Natasha whispered.

“I wonder why,” Andrei said, poking Natasha’s arm playfully.

By the end of the movie, Natasha and Andrei had both fallen asleep, Andrei’s arm still wrapped around Natasha. Sonya quietly turned off all the lights once Mary went up to her guest room. She didn’t once contemplate waking Natasha.

Andrei stirred, becoming aware of the stabbing sensation in his arm. Natasha shifted in her sleep, pressing her head right against where his PICC line went in. Carefully, he slipped a hand behind her head and moved her, just slightly, so that she wouldn’t press against it and disturb it.

Over the course of the next few days, Mary began to look more well-rested. She started to come out of her shell with Andrei around, although he wasn’t improving very much. He still couldn’t get out of bed for more than five minutes without dizziness, fatigue, or pain, or a wicked combination of all three. He had trouble swallowing some of the larger pills he had to take, but he was keeping track of his medications. Or, at least Mary was. She kept a meticulous journal of Andrei’s meds, symptoms, and just about anything else. Natasha rarely removed herself from Andrei’s side. His warm hands fit perfectly in hers.

Andrei had one instance where he stood up to stumble to the bathroom to wash his face and fainted, which he found more embarrassing than worrisome. Mary, however, was worried sick, frantically journaling anything Andrei did after that.

“Hey,” Natasha said calmly over Mary’s shoulder. Mary closed her journal, using her thumb as a temporary bookmark. “He’s okay. He didn’t hit his head or anything. That was bound to happen sooner or later.”

“He could be developing anemia from the blood loss,” Mary replied.

“Or he could be exhausted because his body is trying to heal from a very traumatic injury. Besides, he has a blood transfusion tomorrow, so he’ll be all good.”

Natasha gave Mary’s shoulder a light squeeze before sitting back down next to Andrei. She laid her head against his shoulder, closing her eyes and imagining the trip she and Andrei would take once he was all better. Paris sounded nice, if they could afford it. Before long, Natasha’s train of thought had taken her to planning her own wedding, but a knock at the door startled her out of her thoughts. 

“I’ll get it,” Mary said as she was already opening the door. “Pierre! Hello!”

“Hi, Mary. Can I come in?”

“Sure, of course!”

Pierre shuffled into the already crowded house. “Hey, there he is. How’s the wounded soldier today?”

“Not terrible,” Andrei responded weakly.

“Glad to hear. I, uh, I brought you some stuff. Just some presents and whatnot.”

Pierre took his backpack off, setting it on the ground, and retrieved a book that he’d hastily stuck a bow onto.

“Oh, cool, Immanuel Kant,” Andrei said, smiling as he inspected the cover of the book.

“Figured you’d like it. I also brought some cookies.” Pierre produced a small plastic container full of homemade chocolate chip cookies.

“Ah, Pierre, how sweet of you!” Natasha said, taking the container and holding it in her lap.

“The least I could do,” Pierre responded, the edges of his eyes thinning as he smiled.

Pierre stayed for dinner, even helped Sonya cook, and cleaned up afterwards. He hugged everybody before leaving, took his sweet time saying goodbye to Andrei, and left.

“Well, that was nice!” Sonya said, draping her legs over the arm of her chair.

Mary and Natasha nodded in agreement.

This particular night, Andrei had trouble falling asleep. He decided to read a bit of the book Pierre had given him, but found it impossible to do without light. Closing the book, he traced his fingertips along Natasha’s face. He had forgotten how light of a sleeper she was, immediately feeling a pang of guilt once he saw her eyes flutter open.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to wake you.”

“That’s okay. Can’t sleep?” Natasha felt around until she found Andrei’s hand.

“Yeah.”

“Do you want me to read to you?” Natasha offered.

“Really?” Andrei was shocked that Natasha was so willing to sacrifice her sleep.

“Yes. Oh, man, where are my reading glasses?” Natasha paused. “Ugh, they’re upstairs. I’m not even going to bother.”

Natasha used her phone light to read, squinting at each page to distinguish the words from each other. Not even two full pages in, she fell asleep again, the book still in one hand and her phone in the other. Andrei smiled, wondering how he got so lucky. 

Waking up early was not Andrei’s strong suit. He fell asleep on the car ride to the hospital, still uncomfortably laid out in Mary’s lap. With Mary being his only relative, she was the one who had to check him in and she was the one who could go with him while he got his transfusion.

“You guys are just going to wait here?” Mary asked right before she and Andrei went in.

“We’re gonna do some shopping, but we’ll make sure to be back by 10,” Sonya replied.

“Oh. Okay! Thanks for driving, Sonya.”

Sonya nodded rather awkwardly. “Okay, we’re going to go now. Good luck, you two,” Natasha said, waving to Andrei and Mary.

The cousins ended up at Target, of all places. It happened to be the closest and it had everything Sonya needed. When they reached the door, they both decided to go separate ways and meet back up by the front of the store.

Sonya had a list of groceries she needed, while Natasha just meandered about, picking up anything that looked interesting and inexpensive. She found herself looking at books, trying to find one that Andrei would enjoy but also wouldn’t bore her to death.

She found an abridged copy of Les Misérables and decided to buy it, since she loved the musical so much. She’d only made Andrei sing along with her maybe… a dozen times? As she left that section, she decided to grab the DVD of The Princess Bride. She’d also made Andrei re-enact that with her. He would always critique the fencing.

With her hands full, now that she’d picked up some puzzles, Natasha made her way to where Sonya was expected to be.

The total cost was a bit steep, but Sonya was scarily good with coupons. Natasha piled bags into the trunk of the car while Sonya put the cart back where she got it from.

They returned to the hospital two minutes before ten, and only had to wait one minute before Mary and Andrei came out of the doors, followed by some sort of medical staff. Andrei was in a wheelchair, looking a bit dazed.

“He’s a little dizzy,” Mary explained.

“Oh, here, he can sit up front,” Natasha hopped out of her seat, helping Mary support Andrei from one side.

Andrei got sick once on the way home, which scared the living daylights out of Mary. Natasha and Sonya had seen plenty of family road trips, especially with how nauseous and carsick Vera, the oldest of the Rostovs, always was. Sonya reassured him that she wasn’t mad and that she would clean the car. 

With Natasha supporting him on one side and Mary on the other, Andrei stumbled along until he felt his makeshift bed underneath him. “Do you need anything?” Natasha asked.

“My arm hurts,” Andrei whined. He pulled his sleeve up to show the bandage where the IV must’ve been.

“Be careful,” Natasha pushed Andrei’s hand away gently as she slowly rolled his sleeve down.

“I’m going back to sleep,” Andrei said, exhaling as he wrapped his blanket around himself.

With Andrei down for the count, Natasha decided to go help Sonya clean up the car. She wasn’t very squeamish, after growing up with two very immature brothers. Sonya and Natasha made quick work of cleaning. While Natasha showered, Mary helped Sonya make lunch, although she accidentally burned herself on the stove more than once.

Andrei was still asleep by the time Mary woke him up to give him a handful of pills. Begrudgingly, he took them, and opened his mouth to prove that he did. “Thank you,” Mary said. “You can go back to sleep if you want.”

It was dinner time and Andrei was still asleep. Sonya didn’t feel like cooking, so she printed off a Chinese takeout menu and called in an order. Natasha laid next to Andrei, listening to him breathe as he slept. His hands felt warmer than usual, to Natasha’s concern. She put the back of her hand to his forehead. Heat seemed to radiate off of his skin.

“Guys,” Natasha said shakily. “Andrei’s running a fever.”

“What?” Mary stood up, “Let me see.”

Mary’s heart seemed to sink to the floor. “Do we have a thermometer?” 

“Yeah, upstairs.” Sonya hurried to the upstairs bathroom to retrieve the thermometer.

101.8 degrees. “Andrei? Do you feel okay?”

“Not really,” he sighed.

“What should we do?” Natasha whispered to Sonya.

“I don’t know.”

“Tylenol might bring the fever down. I’m going to call the hospital,” Mary said, putting her hands in her pockets.

Natasha laid back down next to Andrei, holding his hand and pressing a kiss to his cheek. Andrei just grumbled, acknowledging Natasha but not reciprocating anything. He was just too drained.

“They say just to watch him through the night and they’ll see him in the morning.”

Natasha grimaced as Andrei shifted around trying to get comfortable. “No, the blanket is not a good idea. Do you want me to read to you?”

Andrei nodded. As Natasha started to read Les Misérables, Mary came by, placing a cold cloth on Andrei’s forehead. 

Andrei slept heavily into the morning. He nudged Natasha awake at around seven. 

“Natasha. Natasha?”

“What? Are you hurting? What is it?” 

“No, no, I’m not. I just love you,” Andrei said, speaking so clearly that Natasha thought she might be dreaming.

“I love you, too,” Natasha said happily.

And they both fell asleep, Natasha still holding onto Andrei’s hand.

Sometime around 9, Natasha tried to wake Andrei up, because he had to go back to the hospital. He didn’t feel feverish anymore, instead he felt oddly cold. Natasha nudged his arm and kissed his cheek, but he didn’t stir. His lips were slightly parted, it almost looked as though he were smiling in his sleep. Natasha felt his chest, warmed by his sweatshirt. Her hand skimmed along to his heart. It was then she realized that it was void of any heartbeat. 

“Andrei?” she shook him slightly. “Andrei?” 

Natasha drew in a shaky breath. Her mind raced as she tried to figure out what to do. Eventually, her instincts outweighed her thoughts as she breathlessly tried to scream.

“Sonya! Sonya, come down here, please!” Natasha shrieked, not intending to sound so panicked.

Sonya nearly tripped on her way downstairs, but she was by Natasha’s side in a matter of seconds.

“He’s not breathing,” Natasha cried.

Sonya picked up Natasha’s phone, just because it happened to be the closest, and dialed 911. The commotion brought Mary downstairs, curious as to what was happening. When she saw Natasha crying and Sonya hurriedly giving their address to someone on the phone, her heart skipped a beat. “What’s going on?” Mary asked tearfully, trembling in every limb.

“Andrei got worse. Sonya’s calling an ambulance. He’s gonna be okay, though, I know he is,” Natasha said, reassuring both Mary and herself. She still couldn’t breathe.

Sonya waited outside while Mary and Natasha sat on the bottom step of the stairs, holding each other’s hands and comforting each other. Mary didn’t believe Natasha. She wasn’t sure that Andrei was ever going to recover. It was so eerily quiet in the house for a moment. Then three EMTs came in with defibrillators and blood pressure cuffs and all sorts of things. One of them pulled Sonya to the side and must’ve given her terrible news, because her eyes filled with tears and she glanced over at Natasha and Mary.

Slowly, Sonya approached them. No words were exchanged, but Sonya’s expression proved to be readable enough. Natasha burst into sobs, clinging to Sonya like her life depended on it. Mary stared at the floor, her silent tears trickling steadily down her face. 

The procedures in the following days were the most depressing thing Natasha had ever experienced. Sonya was more anxious trying to take care of everybody than she’d ever been. Not wanting to further burden Natasha or Mary, she would call her cousin Nikolai whenever she needed comfort. Nikolai resembled Sonya more than he did Natasha, with his dark auburn hair and freckles. 

More than once, he found himself having to talk Sonya through an anxiety attack. He’d dealt with plenty of them in his life. His mother always said he’d gotten it from her and he sure believed it. 

Nikolai always made sure to stay in touch with Natasha, too, sending her plenty of heart emoji-filled texts throughout the day. She hardly ever replied, but just knowing that she saw them was enough for him.

Funeral homes were bleak by nature, but the one that was chosen for Andrei was exceptionally dull. They didn't have enough time to contact their church, so instead the ceremony was happening at a tiny little funeral hall. It was the closest, and that was what mattered. And Andrei, of course.

Mary, lost in thought and wearing borrowed shoes, had rolled her ankle in the parking lot, which only further soured her mood. As Natasha wrapped her arm around Mary, she noticed how prominent Mary’s ribs had become. She decided that bringing attention to her observation would be very inappropriate, so she distracted herself by looking up at the sky as they crossed the parking lot.

Humongous, fluffy clouds dotted the vast expanse of the sky, blocking out some sunlight but letting some rays shine through the clouds. All Natasha could think of was Andrei, and she was so glad that her head was tilted upwards to hide her tears.

The girls watched as people filtered into the small reception area, including some of Natasha and Sonya’s family.

“Natasha, oh,” Mrs. Rostov hugged her daughter, stroking her hair.

“Hi, Mom,” Natasha responded. She found it funny, even in that moment, how tall she was compared to her petite mother. 

Nikolai didn’t speak. Instead, he embraced Sonya, lifting her off the ground lightly. She squeaked as he set her back down, letting out a small sigh. 

Natasha and her mother talked, or, rather, Natasha talked and her mother listened. Mary stood off to the side, shifting most of her weight into the ankle she hadn’t twisted. Even though her dress had sleeves and the hem of the skirt ended at her feet, Mary was freezing. She fiddled with her necklace, twisting the cross back and forth absentmindedly.

The service began a few minutes later. It was just the Rostov family, some of Andrei and Mary’s extended family, and Pierre. Quiet, dull, and still so cold. 

Mary thanked everyone in attendance, read a verse from the Old Testament, and ended the funeral. Andrei wouldn’t have wanted half-hour-long eulogies, he’d be complaining of boredom by then. 

Natasha looked upon Andrei’s face one final time, disintegrating into her mother’s arms as reality hit her. That would be the last time. Her mother offered to take Natasha home with her, but Natasha declined. She had dependents and such that she couldn’t just leave.

On their way out, Natasha stopped to talk to Pierre. He had his glasses in his coat pocket and he stared at the ground, lost in thought.

“Pierre?” Natasha gently reached out to touch his arm. She realized that the last time she saw Pierre, Andrei was still alive.

Pierre shook his head as if his thoughts would fall back into place like that, then looked up at Natasha. “Hello,” he said, sniffling.

Without any warning, Natasha enveloped Pierre in a tender hug. With Natasha wearing heels, she and Pierre were roughly the same height. “Pierre, I don’t know what to do,” Natasha said, her voice more vulnerable than Pierre had ever heard.

“Shh,” Pierre consoled her. “It’s okay to not know.”

“I have to be here for Mary,” Natasha said, her arms still around Pierre’s broad shoulders.

“Then be there. I’ll help you out.”

“What about yourself? You can’t just take care of us all the time. I’ve seen what it did to Sonya, I can’t let it happen to you.”

“Wait—what do you mean?”

“She’s just this ball of anxiety all the time. I feel so bad that I wasn’t present enough to help her,” Natasha sighed heavily.

“Hey, I understand. You were dealing with a lot.”

“Why are you so good at this?”

“At what?” Pierre tilted his head.

“Comforting people.”

Pierre let out a long, hearty sigh. “Just empathetic, I suppose.”

“Thank you, Pierre,” Natasha smiled genuinely for the first time in what felt like months.

Pierre gave Natasha a kind nod in response. 

“See you later, I guess,” Natasha said.

“Mhm,” Pierre replied wistfully, already returning to his dazed train of thought.

As Natasha lingered in the parking lot, she decided to wander back inside in search of Mary. Sonya had gone with the rest of the Rostovs, just briefly, to catch up on things. Natasha assured her mother that she would be okay without her for a little while. 

Mary stood over the casket, both hands placed firmly on the lid, her head bowed in solemn prayer. Natasha didn’t want to disrupt, so she left, cringing every time her heels clicked against the linoleum tile and tore the silence away step by step.

The sunlight hit Natasha’s face and arms again, and for a moment she felt so joyously warm. She almost smiled, but the warmth and joy left her body rapidly as she turned her head to the right and saw Pierre, in his car, sobbing into his hands. Natasha didn’t know what to do, didn’t know what to say if she was actually going to go talk to him. Yet she moved towards the car, her expression softening with sympathy and pain.

To her surprise, the door was unlocked, and to Pierre’s surprise, Natasha had opened it. He held his breath for a second, slowly lifting his head to look at Natasha. Tears spilled down his face, his flushed face, with his bloodshot eyes. Natasha began to cry, too, biting her bottom lip to try to stifle all of the emotions welling up.

Pierre wrapped his arms around Natasha’s waist, resting his chin on her shoulder. Natasha didn’t mind it, she cried just as much as he did as they held each other awkwardly.

As soon as Pierre felt that he’d be sound enough to drive, he released Natasha from his snug grasp and said goodbye to her, for the time being. 

“Thank you, Natasha.” Pierre said, closing his car door after offering Natasha a tissue.

“No need to thank me. Drive safe, Pierre.”

“Bye.”

“Bye,” Natasha said softly, turning around only to see Mary waiting on the curb for her.

“Can we leave?” Mary grumbled as she stood up. 

“Yeah, let’s go,” Natasha replied, offering Mary her arm to take.

The moon was barely there that night. It was a waning crescent on its last phase before becoming a new moon. Natasha gazed up at the sliver of light among the stars, drawing in a deep, calm breath. “It’s just the smallest crescent. See? Right there,” Natasha said to herself. “There. It’s about to start a new phase. It’ll look like it’s gone, but it’s still there. And then the crescent will show up on the other side and get bigger and bigger until it becomes a full moon again. Actually, the next one is supposed to be a super moon. It’ll be really nice. I think you’ll like it a lot. Hey, look at that, there’s Venus. Wow, you can really see it tonight, huh? Not a cloud in the sky.”

Natasha found comfort in talking to Andrei about the moon. She made it her nightly regime. Sometimes, she would get going on a long anecdote. Other times, she’d simply say what phase it was and admire it in silence. It was so peaceful, those few minutes in her backyard with Andrei’s spirit in her heart. Just them, and no one else.


End file.
